


More Is More (And Less Is Much Less)

by coloursflyaway



Series: Kingsman Tumblr Prompts [1]
Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Dom/sub Undertones, Established Relationship, Fingerfucking, Fluff and Smut, Handcuffs, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Prostate Massage, Rimming, Spreader Bars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-02
Updated: 2015-08-02
Packaged: 2018-04-12 14:44:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4483313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coloursflyaway/pseuds/coloursflyaway
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Every mentor has to give their propsal an extra task to fulfill their training at Kingsman.<br/>Harry chooses to test Eggsy's endurance - he is only allowed to come once he is told to, while Harry uses the whole arsenal at his hands to make it as hard as possible for him</p>
            </blockquote>





	More Is More (And Less Is Much Less)

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a prompt I got on Tumbr:
> 
> Hartwin please? Every mentor is encouraged to teach their proposals in addition to the official kingsman training. Harry has a lesson in endurance planned for Eggsy - a very personal one. There is only one rule: don't come until you are told to. Eggsy's in for quiet a challenge, as Harry uses the whole arsenal at his hands to make it hard for him (pun intended). There is one way for him to 'win' though: make Harry come first. Does he succeed?

“You’ve gotta be fuckin’ kiddin’ me.” Eggsy stares at his mentor-turned friend- turned lover, as if Harry just suggested going out to the pub and shagging there.  
“Absolutely not. It’s a tradition – every mentor gives their protégé a task of their choosing, to test them on something the mentor thinks they are having difficulties with, and we both know how impatient you get.” Harry looks… smug, for the lack of another word, but then again, Harry isn’t the one who will be subjected to an evening of sexual torture.  
“Can’t we do somethin’ less horrible tho?”, Eggsy asks, and Harry laughs, shakes his head.  
“No. But there is a way for you to win apart from holding out – make me come first.”  
“But I guess ya won’t be tied to the bedposts, huh?”  
“Of course not.”

 

But of course Eggsy ends up tied to the bed. By now he knows that he wouldn’t be able to say no to anything Harry asked him to, and if it was something even stranger than tying him naked to the four-poster bed and forbidding Eggsy to come until he is told to.  
He’s on his hands and knees, staring ahead and trying not to get hard already, just because he knows what is about to happen. It’s not really working.  
“C’mon, ‘Arry, can’t ya at least hurry up?”, he asks, doesn’t get an answer but a little hum, another drawer that gets opened and closed again. Eggsy can’t help but wonder what Harry is getting, if it’s something that will make him lose his mind or something he could deal with.

Finally, the mattress dips again, then there are hands on his ankles, spreading them a little.  
“If it gets too much, you know what to say?”, Harry asks, and Eggsy groans, nods.  
“Yeah, Harry. ‘s not like we haven’t been over this for, what, fifteen times yet.”  
They really have been, every time they do anything which is more than making love, and while it is sweet that Harry is still making sure that Eggsy knows (as if he could forget a safeword like _Oxfords, not Brogues_ ), he would also like to get this over with very much.

Harry gently slaps his butt as a reprimand, but then the hands return to his ankles, stroking one of them for a second, before a leather strap is fastened around it.  
“Wha-?”  
Eggsy whips around, looks down at Harry who is holding… who is holding a fucking spreader bar. They have been talking about these things, at least things _like this_ , but Eggsy never would have thought that Harry would just come to the bedroom with a spreader bar of all things. Still, his cock twitches at the mere thought of Harry keeping him open like this, forcing him to take it.  
“I don’t want you to be able to play dirty”, Harry explains while he forces Eggsy’s legs apart a little further, putting the second strap around his other ankle.

“I never play dirty”, Eggsy responds, which is a lie, but he doesn’t really feel guilty about that, especially when Harry is doing this to him. Harry just snorts, mutters something which sounds like _sure_ , then slides his hands up Eggsy’s thighs, to the swell of his arse.  
The touch feels far too good already, as if every nerve of his body was overeager to respond to whatever Harry wanted to do to him and Eggsy curses his body for that, for how easily it reacts to the other man.

The hands travel further, over Eggsy’s back and his shoulders, but Harry doesn’t seem to want to rush anything, just keeps touching him, reaching around Eggsy to tweak his nipples, rubbing them until they’re hard and sensitive, then slides his hands down his chest, his end-of-day stubble rubbing against Eggsy’s shoulder. It’s just a little rough, the perfect balance to the light touches to his nipples.  
But Harry doesn’t stay there; a few moments later his lips trail wet kisses all over Eggsy’s back, sometimes biting, sometimes licking, while his hands slide down over his stomach, hipbones, not once touching Eggsy’s cock. It’s incredibly frustrating.

Still, Eggsy keeps himself from making a sound, knowing that once he starts to, it’ll be impossible to stop again. Which is apparently exactly what Harry wants, because he keeps touching him everywhere, using his fingernails to scratch lightly over Eggsy’s skin, lips trailing down his spine.  
“You can speak, if you want to”, Harry mutters teasingly, and Eggsy groans, half in annoyance, half because Harry nips lightly at his spine, makes his skin tingle.  
“Fuck you”, Eggsy answers, with feeling, but it only makes Harry laugh.  
“I’ll fuck you…in due time.”

“ _Fuck you_ ”, Eggsy repeats, and Harry pulls himself away a little bit, adjusts his positon and suddenly Eggsy feels vulnerable like he never has before, his hands tied and the spreader bar forcing him to keep himself open, exposed. Harry stays away for a second, just looking at him and fuck, that alone makes Eggsy’s cock leak precome.  
Harry’s hands come to cup the cheeks of his arse again, squeezing them, massaging them until Eggsy can’t help but moan a bit, hang his head. They haven’t even done anything yet, and Eggsy is still so turned on he thinks he could scream, his cock hanging hard and heavy between his legs, his hole clenching at the thought of Harry keeping his promise from before.

As if the other could read his mind, Harry leans down only moments later and licks a stripe over Eggsy’s hole, hot and wet, and Eggsy can’t help but moan, try and push back against the older man. Which wouldn’t be necessary, apparently, because Harry only pulls back a little before he licks at his hole once more, circling the furl of muscle with the tip of his tongue, not yet letting it dip inside.

Ever since Harry has done this to him the first time, Eggsy has loved getting rimmed, not just the sheer physical pleasure, but the intimacy, the fact that Harry would do something like that for him, without gaining anything from it (even if Harry assured him countless times that that was not the case at all). So he can’t help but moan now, roll his hips and bite at his lips, trying his best not to give away just how good it feels when Harry finally has enough of torturing him and slides his tongue into Eggsy’s hole, only to pull back a second later.  
The older man repeats that a few times, just teasing, shallow dips of his tongue inside of Eggsy until he is gasping, then pulls his cheeks apart properly with both hands, finally thrusts his tongue deep inside of Eggsy, fucking him with it.

It makes sparks of pleasure shoot through him, make him tingle all over, and Eggsy knows he is groaning Harry’s name, his fingers curling uselessly around each other, hands held together by the handcuffs.  
He gets why Harry put them on him – otherwise he’d be reaching around, trying to grab the older man, pull him closer – but that doesn’t make them any less annoying right now. Still, Eggsy pulls at the cuffs a little bit, just testing; it makes Harry chuckle, the vibrations travelling through Eggsy’s body, intensifying the pleasure of the licks of Harry’s tongue.  
“Fuck”, he breathes out, tries to stay quiet because he’s been giving in to Harry too much. “Fuck, fuck, fuck…”

Harry pulls back for a second to bite into the flesh of Eggsy’s cheek, the pain mixing so easily with the pleasure, then dives back down, presses the filthiest of kisses to Eggsy’s hole.  
By now, the only thing Eggsy can still do is try not to whine, so Harry won’t know just how close he is to failing this challenge. He doesn’t know what will happen if he fails – when he fails, he thinks to himself while Harry sinks his tongue deep into him – but he hopes it won’t be too bad.

His muscles are tense, every single of them, and Eggsy curses the fact that Harry could make him come like this, they both know it. Before the other man had turned his whole life upside down, Eggsy had thought that the whole _coming untouched_ thing was some myth, or only possible in porn, but Harry had taught him how wrong he was with only two fingers and a copious amount of lube. Later, again, with his tongue.  
And he seems to be intent on doing the same thing once more, curls his tongue inside of Eggsy so the tip catches on the rim of his hole, makes Eggsy sob out the older man’s name once more.

Harry doesn’t seem to hear, just continues eating him out until Eggsy is shaking, moaning, begging under his breath. He’ll come like this, he just knows it, does his best to think of his grandmother’s hands and the time he saw his P.E. teacher, Mr. Philips in the showers, but while it helps, it won’t ever be enough.  
And then Harry makes it worse.  
Without stopping to lick into him, Harry slides a finger into him, crooks it and presses it against Eggsy’s prostate, making Eggsy cry out and squeeze his eyes shut, bites his lips.

“ _Oh God_.” Eggsy’s voice sounds broken even to his own ears, but he can’t help it; while it felt amazing to have Harry’s tongue inside of him, having his finger rubbing circles over his prostate while the older man licks around it, feels even better.  
“Yes, Eggsy?”, Harry asks, sounds all but unaffected, as if he hadn’t just pulled away from eating him out in the best way possible, and Eggsy can’t help but laugh, low and hoarsely.  
“This is just unfair”, he answers, “Fuckin’ unfair, Harry, and ya know it.”  
“Absolutely.”  
And as if to make his point, Harry, the bastard, crooks his finger harder, pulls it out of Eggsy and fucks it back hard, the friction torturous and the best thing Eggsy has ever felt.

This time, Eggsy can’t even make a sound, screams wordlessly, and Harry does it again, again, again. He loses time, can’t tell one thrust from the next, because Harry never lets the pleasure ebb off, makes it build up until Eggsy feels like he could scream just because a strand of Harry’s hair brushing over his skin. At some point, Harry adds another finger and Eggsy feels like he’s about to pass out.  
If he could still think, he would try and conjure of the image of something horrible to keep himself from coming, but Eggsy is too far gone to do so anymore, so instead he tries to hold on somehow, even if it feels almost impossible to do so.

“Harry, God, just fuck me…” Eggsy doesn’t know how much time has passed when he gasps out the words, but the words make Harry stop for a second, and although it takes him a moment, Eggsy remembers that yes, of course, there was another way of winning this than just not coming. He could make Harry come instead.  
And Eggsy knows how much the older man loves it when he talks in bed.

“Need your cock, oh God, Harry”, he gasps out, and he means it, but it’s also a test, and it works. Harry thrusts his fingers harder into him, rubs them harshly over Eggsy’s prostate, spreads them like he knows Eggsy likes it, just a hint of pain making the pleasure sweeter.  
He slides his tongue between his fingers, and for a second, Eggsy’s mind goes blank, his insides clenching and his cock twitching uselessly; he wouldn’t need more than one stroke to come, Eggsy knows it.  
“Please, Harry, please, please”, he begs breathlessly, rolls his hips as much as he possibly can, tries to get more of this somehow. “Please, fuck me, Harry, I need it…”

For a few moments, nothing happens, just more infuriating licks of Harry’s tongue over his oversensitive hole, but then Harry pull back, gives Eggsy’s prostate one last, vicious rub.  
Eggsy can’t do much more than try and look over his shoulder to see what Harry is doing and wait.

It seems to take forever, even if it might just be a few moments, then Harry’s hands are back on his arse, spreading him open even wider than the spreader bar does.  
“Oh, you gorgeous, filthy thing”, the older man mutters, rubs his thumb over Eggsy’s hole, makes him gasp.  
He doesn’t answer, just pushes up his arse, tries to entice Harry.  
Which works perfectly.

There are two or three moments in which Harry stays still, then he groans and does exactly what Eggsy has been begging him to, he thrusts into him. It’s always amazing, feeling Harry inside him that first time, it feels like becoming one, but it’s even better now, because Eggsy is so on edge already that every hint of friction is enough to make him gasp.  
Harry is breathing heavily and Eggsy looks over his shoulder again, gasps out, since the older man looks wrecked, even if not as wrecked as Eggsy feels, hair out of place and lips swollen, still wet.  
Almost he loses it again, just because of how Harry looks, but forces to pull himself together, thinking of Chester King and the expression when they met for the first time.

It works well enough that Eggsy can squeeze around Harry deliberately, making the other groan and pull out again, thrusting back into Eggsy hard and fast, setting a rhythm. It’s not the way they usually fuck, but that makes it hotter somehow, makes Eggsy _want_ so much he thinks he might burst.  
“Oh God, Harry”, he moans, then remembers his task, adds, “Feels so good, love your cock inside me, fuck me, please…”  
It seems to work, because Harry picks up his pace even more, slams into him again and again, rocking Eggsy forward with each thrust. The friction is making it nearly impossible to continue thinking, so Eggsy just clenches his muscles again, makes Harry’s hips stutter and lose their rhythm when they fuck into him the next time. He moans lowly, and the sound is the best thing that Eggsy has heard in a long time, hoarse and desperate and _close_.

By now, after months of this, Eggsy knows exactly how Harry sounds and looks and fucks when he is approaching his orgasm, and that is exactly what is happening now, and not a moment too early, since Eggsy can feel heat pooling in his stomach, threatening to sweep him away any second now, as soon as he loses himself to the feeling and stops thinking of his grandma’s dentures.  
Harry seems to know that, since he changes the angle just ever so slightly, hoists Eggsy’s legs up further; the next of his thrusts makes his cock drag roughly across Eggsy’s prostate. Pleasure sparks deep inside of his stomach, spreads out through his limbs as if his blood was carrying it through his veins, and Eggsy can’t help but cry out the older man’s name.  
For the first time in his life, Eggsy is glad that no one is touching his cock, because he knows he would have come what feels like hours ago otherwise, would definitely have come now.

His brain is still mush, but Eggsy tries his best to get it together, to focus, because he’s so close and he needs to succeed. Needs to make Harry proud.  
So he clenches up around the other’s cock once more, rocks back as much as he can, which makes it better for Harry, but also makes it better for him. But then again, by now there might be nothing left he could do without making this better for him.  
“Please, Harry”, he chokes out, desperate and needy and close to coming, close to crying. “Please, need it, fill me up, make me yours….”  
For a few seconds, nothing happens, no answer comes, no moan, but then Harry breathes out his name like a prayer, snaps his hips hard and comes inside of Eggsy, riding out his orgasm with hard, fast thrusts.

It’s a strange thing, but sometimes Eggsy thinks that he enjoys the feeling of Harry coming inside of him more than coming himself, the hot, slick rush sensation of being filled up with the older man’s come, the feeling of being marked which comes with it. It’s like Harry is claiming him all over again.  
There are a couple of moments in which Eggsy isn’t even thinking, just moves along with Harry’s thrusts, but then the other reaches around him, wraps a hand around Eggsy’s cock and that’s more than he can possibly take.

His orgasm is almost violent, makes Eggsy jerk and tremble underneath of Harry, crying, sobbing out the other’s name while he comes all over Harry’s hand.  
After being on edge for so long, the pleasure coursing through him is more intense than Eggsy can remember it ever being, dragging him under, making it impossible to think, to be embarrassed about the curses and pleas and love confessions which are spilling from his lips, unheeded.

It seems to go on forever and a day until Eggsy comes back to himself, to Harry’s lips pressing fluttering kisses to the base of his spine, his fingers working open the straps of leather around his ankles.  
His thighs, his wrists, his back are aching, but Eggsy only notices it now, is infinitely grateful when Harry frees him of the spreader bar and puts it away, taking a few minutes to massage his ankles and calves until he moves up to unlock the handcuffs. Incidentally, that brings Harry close enough to Eggsy to kiss him.

The kiss is a little sloppy, lazy, especially because Harry keeps working on opening the handcuffs, only bringing his hands up to cup Eggsy’s face when he has released him.  
“Bloody well done”, the older man mutters against his lips, sounding proud, and Eggsy grins, bites a bit at Harry’s lips. There is no heat behind it, though, since even if Eggsy wanted to, he couldn’t get it up for round two.  
“Thanks. ‘ad a good teacher”, Eggsy answers, sighs when Harry lies down next to him, taking one of his wrists in his hands and starting to massage that, too. Eggsy briefly considers if Harry’s fingers aren’t maybe his favourite part of the other.  
“Was he now.”  
“Mhm. Bloody gorgeous too, even if ‘e could be a right arse too.”

For that, Harry presses his finger a little too hard into Eggsy’s skin, makes him gasp out a moan that’s half pain, half pleasure.  
“Definitely an arse, yeah”, Eggsy adds and Harry is smiling in that way Eggsy likes the most, amused but impossibly fond, like he sees the world and more in Eggsy’s eyes. It makes him feel important, safe, and most importantly, like he belongs here, with Harry.  
He shifts closer, until he can kiss Harry again, just a press of lips against lips.  
“You’re insufferable”, the older man tells him, soft brown eyes and a hint of a smile curling his lips upwards.  
“And yet ya wouldn’t like me any different, would ya?”  
“Absolutely not.”

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> In case you want to say hi, send me a prompt, or tell me something nice, you can find me on Tumblr here:  
> [X](http://www.coloursflyaway.tumblr.com)


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